A night out
by radicalchickster
Summary: Read and you'll get the picture.


Chad's expression is truly flustered. He gapes at me, a hard look in his beautiful

blue eyes. "You don't know?" He hisses, his jaw clenching. I flush all sorts of red, my

gaze drifting to the ground, ashamed.

"Well, you acted like you didn't even care!" I blurt aloud, mind reeling. "You pushed me

away from you. After we had sex, I expected you'd want to be something. You hurt me.

What do you expect me to say? I love you? I love you for doing that to me, love you for

not even trying?"

Chad's face drains of color, he gazes at me intently. His eyes studying my face, roving

Up and down my body. James is engaged in a screaming match with Portlyn, who chucks

A platinum bracelet at him and sends it sailing through the air, where it makes its way to

feet His expression wounded, he balls his fists at his sides and watches Portlyn skulk off

tward Chad's car. "Chad, we going?" Portlyn switches "I want to be a billionaire" to Chevelle's

"Red".

"Yeah," Chad says flatly, not meeting my glare. He walks stiffly toward his gleaming Hot

Rod, revs it up and just sits there listening to blaring music until finally he and Portlyn

Decide to take off-together. A hard knot of tension resides in the pit of my stomach. I nearly

Puke from my battered nerves.

"Oh, it's not the end of the world… Sonny." Tawni whines dramatically, touching up on her

eye makeup, the hue a disarming red. She sits at her vanity, pursing her lips in the mirror,

smiling satisfied at her own complexion.

"God, I can't believe you'd say that." I say grimly, sitting down on the edge of the overstuffed sofa

and crossing my legs.

"James, feels so bad." I say quietly, biting my lip down hard and sighing uncomfortably.

"Of course he does," Tawni objects "He can't keep his pants up."

"What the fug?" I sober up immediately at that. "Tawni, the feeling was mutual. We both wanted to kiss each other."

"You both are in relationships," Tawni points out, her seafoam green eyes widening slightly.

"Whatever, so not the point." I rise from my spot in the sofa and wander over to a chest,

containing my clothes. I pull out a white frilly shirt, khaki shorts, a pair of olive drab Converse,

low heel socks and strip out of my flowy rainbow knit dress and into the fresh pair of clothing,

applying deodorant, rimming my eyes in liner, and glossing my lips in a raspberry tint.

I brush my hair out, until its gleaming and throw my untamable dark curls into a messy bun, brushing stray follicles of dust and hair from my ruffled shirt, grabbing my messenger bag and

exiting the dressing room crossly. "You know," Tawni calls after me, a hint of dismay in her usually perky tone. "Sulking gets you no where!"

I choose to ignore her statement and wander outside to my lime green Cherokee.

I'm driving on the highway, tears brimming in my eyes; until they coat my cheeks in a glossy sheen; listening to System of A Down's "BYOB" and shaking my head in remorse. My cow print

Phone lights up with a new text from James:

_Sonny, I'm ah at my house drinking. Can we talk?_

I text back a reply, my heart racing.

_Me: Sure, as long as I get some. :]_

_James: Of course you're welcome to take whatever you want. There's Vodka. ;)_

_Me: Sounds good, see you when I get there._

I pull into Jame's driveway, my breath seizing me. My hair is matted to my forehead in perspiration. I force a deep sigh and slip out of my car, racing upstairs toward James's apartment. James is sitting on his deck, a frown making its way up the corners of his lips. He hands me a plastic red cup overflowing with Absolut. I sit down beside him at the wrought iron deck table, just pondering my life. He glances at me sharply, the cup halfway to his lips. "Can I ask you something?" He slurs, his dark glazed eyes meeting mine.

"Sure, anything." I retort, slamming my empty cup down on the table's surface. He pours more from the bottle into the cup, fixing me with an utterly puzzled look.

"Why is it we have such shitty relationships?" He asks hoarsely, voice choked with emotion.

"I couldn't honestly tell you. My theory is that we fall for the wrong people." I clarify, draining the contents of my cup once more, in protest for more.

"It seems to be that way," James laughs bitterly, lifting his cup to mine and toasting. "Cheers to finding the right people!"

"Ditto," I smile back at him. Within a half hour, I am slammed. So plastered as in I can't make it to my own car. Kind of sad once you think about it. My brain responds in a dizzying haze, colors blurring all around me. James stumbles inside to grab his portable dock system and returns, putting on Buena Vista Social Club's remix of Coldplay's "Clocks" and smiling bemused at me.

I reach for his hands as he takes me in his arms and we attempt to twirl about on his spacious desk. The inky black sky teems with a million, burning white stars that take my breath away. I collapse into his lap laughing merrily, he pulls out another bottle; refilling our cups and we drink once more. It doesn't even matter that we're drunk off our asses, it's a giddy kind of drunk the type that makes you glad to be alive and having fun with the person next to you. James smiles and leans in to plant a soft kiss upon my lips. My heart thrills with unexpected pleasure at this and I sink into his arms.


End file.
